Food From Hell
by Charlie-darling
Summary: There is more than one reason why Ken should never cook.


**Food From Hell:**

Loudly, his fingers tapped against the counter as he examined the empty room. Cold and silent, the noise level didn't include the grumbling from his stomach.

_What to do, what to do_, he pondered to the beat of his fingers. Yohji had the strong urge to just leave for food, but that would mean he would have to walk through the winter weather. The Seven was still getting repaired from the latest mission. He frowned at that, remembering his reaction to seeing the bullet holes and scratches.

Ken called him a drama king and the next morning, the former soccer player found his bike missing. Only to be found, three hours and thirty two minutes later (Yohji was timing it with a grin), in a tree. Yes, a fucking tree.

It had been hell, and a lot of trouble, but the end result made it all worth it.

Back to the issue of food, since he didn't want to go outside or put on pants for that matter. Unless there was a mission or some other pressing matter, Yohji Kudou, playboy extraordinaire, stayed in boxers on a Sunday until he deemed necessary.

Part of the reason was just to be lazy, but mostly to piss off Ken. It seemed too much of his time was spent towards annoying Ken. Another thing he would work on, after coffee and food.

Pushing off from the counter, the blond decided the refrigerator would be the best option. He realized, frowning at the scarce scene before him, that they needed to go shopping. Bottles of electric blue… something were grouped together in a corner, Ken's liquid poison. 

_Gator-aid, wasn't it?_ The chain smoker didn't have the energy to care.

There was Omi's snacks, which consisted of vegetables that would be the feast for a rabbit. Yohji's bottles of whiskey and beer were the only things in his part of the fridge. Aya's was similarly barren, minus the alcohol and instead was tea and miso soup.

In the door was condiments, and seasonings they all shared. Yohji huffed his overview of the fridge. It looked like he would have to run on cigarettes and coffee again this morning. It seemed like being lazy in the mornings had its hang ups too. _Hold the phone_, he thought, spying the edge of some container.

Could it be a jackpot of food? The other question would be that, if it was food, was it edible. That, of course, depended on two factors: who made it and how long it had been in there.

Yohji shrugged to himself, _how bad could it be?_

The container was transparent enough to keep it closed. Briefly, he wondered if he should even open it. Looking inside the container, Yohji found no suspicious blue. It just looked like lumpy sludge. Whatever was in it, or whatever it was suppose to be, he had no clue. Maybe Ken had made it?

Yohji scoffed. It looked like sludge Ken would make. That fact alone would be enough to send a lesser man running and screaming for cover.

Ken's concoctions were known to be… suspicious? It was the best word Yohji could come up with on such lack of food and coffee.

He raised an eyebrow at the thing and wondered if he should just put it back or toss the plastic container in the garbage and save the fridge from… whatever the sludge was.

"Are you trying to cool the house, Kudou?" Yohji looked up to see Aya walking down the stairs and entering the kitchen. He had forgotten that he still had the refrigerator open. He moved his arm aside and let it close.

"More of trying to figure out what the hell this is." The redhead simply raised an eyebrow at the other man. Yohji hated it when he did that in the mornings before coffee, but he resisted the temptation to make a face at the Weiss leader like a two year old. _Making faces at said local ice man would cause side effects ranging from a glare to decapitation via katana. _Yohji smirked at the warning going through his head.

It was too fucking early for this, and maybe Yohji still had some liquor in his system. That would be surprising, his blood may as well have been fused with it. He smiled at the thought of having liquor transfusions.

Yohji briefly looked at the redhead, who was filling up the tea kettle, and looked back down to the container. He moved the container from side to side, watching the sludge move slowly. He looked at it closer.

Did it twitch on its own or had Yohji finally cracked? Each were likely.

"Throw it out if you're not going to have it." The blond glanced up and watched Aya prepare his tea. He shook his head, before realizing that the effort was a waste seeing as the man wasn't even looking at him.

"I'm thinking of simply releasing it into Ken's room, to kind of show him that his cooking has more dire effects than just food poisoning." He could almost hear the raising of eyebrows from Aya.

The thing was though, he was only partially joking. During the first years of Weiss, Omi and Yohji both had learned why Ken should keep four feet away from the stove at all times, and to never trust the former J-leaguer to make them food.

Kritiker wasn't exactly happy that the fire department had been called multiple times to the Weiss household, nor that two of Weiss members had food poisoning.

"Dire," Aya scoffed softly, "I didn't think that word would be in your vocabulary."

"My oh my, I see a comedian in my midst. Wherever have you been hiding?" Yohji spoke sarcastically, still wanting to figure out if this thing in the plastic container had gained life during the four days of its creation.

Yohji shook the container some more. How could Ken even stand to eat his own creations? Maybe he had a high poison tolerance. No one would be surprised with that information. It would explain why Ken could chug one of those bright blue drinks in less than 4.2 seconds.

Yes, they timed it.

"Kudou." Yohji jumped, not expecting Aya to be right behind him. The container slipped from his hands and hit the floor.

Of course, spilling out of the container was that damn concoction. Yohji could imagine that, if the thing had something that resembled vocal chords, it would be speaking about its newfound freedom.

Maybe he was still drunk, or maybe even sleeping.

"You're picking that up." Yohji frowned at Aya, but again, he may as well have saved the effort since the other man was looking at the spreading sludge.

"Oh good God that thing stinks." Yohji covered his nose with his arm in some hope that it would keep away the smell.

The two Weiss members backed away from the thing. The older man wouldn't be surprised to find that it was eating away at the floor.

"This is your damn fault." Aya stated, opening a kitchen window in a futile wish to expel the smell even a little.

"Hey guys, what's… the hell is that smell?" Ken covered his nose almost immediately upon entering the kitchen/dining room area.

"That would be your concoction from hell!" Yohji shouted, taking a step back from the spreading mass. Weiss would need to call in the cleaners to get the smell out.

"Why am I always the one to blame for bad smelling food?" Ken yelled back, looking irritated and disgusted.

"Because Aya and Omi know how to cook without poisoning people or creating toxic waste!" Yohji was severely wishing that he had just left well enough alone and went out for some damn food.

"What about you?" Hadn't they had this argument several times before? Yohji was sure they had.

"I don't cook, dimwit. You're cleaning it up!" Yohji followed Aya's lead and opened more windows.

"What! I didn't drop it!" Ken argued.

"Hidaka, clean it up." Aya ordered.

"Why?"

"You were told not to cook anymore." Aya stated clearly. "And if there's any damage to the floor, it's coming out of your paycheck."

Aya walked out of the room and Yohji left upstairs, leaving Ken alone with the stinking mass.

"Fuck, this sucks." He said to the room, and to the concoction that looked like it was moving to the door. Ken frowned, and silently vowed to never cook again.


End file.
